As I Fall - a Before I Fall Fanfiction
by aaoch1
Summary: Sam tries one more time to save everyone - but will it be enough?


Before I Fall belongs to Lauren Oliver. None of the characters or settings in this fanfiction belong to me.

_As I once again fall through the blackness towards another February twelfth, I realize that maybe it's not about saving myself, at least not in the way that I had thought. It's funny how life is being snatched away just as I'm starting to truly value it. Kent's face surfaces in my mind, and my stomach knots at the thought of never having a chance to make it up to him, never truly getting to know him, never again feeling his lips on mine again. As I hear the first beep of the alarm, I resolve to try one more time…I can live through one more February twelfth for him, and for me._

"Beep, beep, beep"

I groan and reach one arm out to silence the alarm. Right on cue, Izzy runs into the room and jumps on my bed, "You have to get up, Mom says you'll be late for school!"

"I know, I know," I grumble, rolling out of bed and heading for the closet. I briefly consider wearing something other than the short black skirt and be-feathered tank top that Lindsay, Ally, Elody and I chose in another lifetime, but I know that wearing anything else would start a fight, and I don't want to have any fights. Not today, in my last attempt to save everyone.

As I finish getting ready, I hear Lindsay's yell of "Beep Beep," and I finish my goodbyes to my family, grab my gloves, and head out the door.

The ride to school goes as expected, sesame bagels, coffee, Elody's gift of a condom…I don't tell them that my plans have changed, they'll find out soon enough. As we take the last spot in the senior's area, I see Sarah Grundel racing to the upper parking lot, dashing out of her car, and jogging to the school – Starbucks coffee in hand. It occurs to me that if you're one late away from missing an important meet, you should probably make your coffee at home.

I split away from the girls as soon as we enter the school; I have some business to take care of in the rose room. In science, I remember Lauren's tear-stained face when she told me that she was being accused of cheating when I was the true perpetrator. I decide to keep my eyes to myself…it's not like my grade is going to matter anyway. Despite my earlier resolve, I'm becoming more and more certain that not even the most inspired plan will allow me to escape my fate.

Despite my constant crowd scanning, I haven't caught even a glimpse of Kent by lunchtime, and my attention shifts to the unpleasant scene I'm about to create. As I walk into the crowded cafeteria, I see Rob across the room, baseball cap on sideways, pretending not to notice me. I sigh, then turn my feet in his direction and force them to keep moving.

"Hey," I say, as he still hasn't "noticed" me when I'm close enough to touch him.

"Hey babe, didn't see you there," with a smirk and an eye-roll (that I'm not supposed to see) to his friends.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure babe…what's up? Did you get my rose?"

"Yeah, thanks, did you get mine?"

"I sure did, and boy was I glad that I don't have to wait for you anymore, I was starting to think you were going to come up with _another_ excuse." I step back as he paws at me and tries to kiss me. At this moment, it's hard to find whatever it was that I used to see in him…right now the idea of him touching me makes me feel nauseated.

"Well, what I meant was that you don't have to wait for me because it's not working out. It's over." I try to keep my voice steady, but the tiniest shake of nerves comes out, which I hate.

"What? You're…breaking up with me?" Rob sounds slow and stupid as he says this, as if someone just told him that tomorrow water would flow upwards into the clouds.

"Yes. I'm sorry; it's not working out."

"But you…you can't break up with me." Now there's some anger mixed with the confusion, and I wish I didn't have to hear whatever he's about to say next. Rob has never been good when he's angry.

"You, _you_ can't break up with _me_." And with the slight change in inflection, I know. I know that he didn't forget about that day in sixth grade, I know that he's always thought that he was too good for me. I know why he's upset – not upset at losing me, but upset at the humiliation of this too-public break-up. He'll never be able to convince anyone that he was the one who made the choice when half the school, and all his friends, were there to see his all-too-genuine surprise. I give an internal chuckle at how he'll feel when he finds out who I broke up with him for…assuming of course that Kent will have me. I know I don't deserve him, but the evidence of the past week (day?) indicates that he hasn't realized that yet, and I don't intend to give him the chance. If my plan works, hopefully by the time he realizes that I was never good enough for him; I'll be a better person, a person he can truly love.

"But I, I _waited_ for you," Rob hisses at me. Then louder, "I should have screwed Gabby Hayes when she begged me to over winter break."

"Well," I say wearily, "maybe you'll get a second chance. See you around Rob." And without giving him the opportunity to spew more bile at me, I turn and walk away. Then, at that otherwise awful, humiliating moment, I see him. Just a glimpse, but Kent was clearly close enough to see, and hear, what went on. Let's be honest, once people figured out what was happening, the entire cafeteria went quiet and turned to stare. As my eyes meet his he flashes me a smile and even risks a thumbs-up.

I return the smile, my heart suddenly beating a touch too fast, my spirits rising in a bubble high in my chest. I wish I could go to him, and I almost snort at the thought of the entire school watching me walk away from Rob and right into Kent's arms. I don't though, because I don't really want to start our relationship in the midst of an incredulous and titillated crowd. There will be enough of that, but I want the first moments to be quiet, and private, and wonderful.

So instead I head to our usual table, where Lindsay, Elody, and Ally stare open-mouthed at me. I try a pre-emptive strike. "I know, I know, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you! But I knew that you'd try to talk me out of it, and I needed all the strength I had to go through with it!"

"But, but _why_?" Ally almost whispers, "You've liked Rob _forever_. It was your _dream_ to be with him. Why would you throw that away?"

"I guess sometimes, we dream the wrong dreams," I shrug, "it was never quite…right. And then, with tonight, I really didn't want my first time to be with someone who I don't truly care about. I knew it would be awful, and I knew I would regret it, so I decided that I had to get out."

"You're an idiot," Lindsay's voice is oddly flat, and I feel a twist of fear that nothing I can do or say will make her accept the choices I'm about to make.

"Probably," I say, not meaning it but knowing it's the only chance to remove the contempt I hear in Lindsay's voice, "but I'm _your_ idiot."

Elody throws her arms around me, unsurprisingly the first to relent, "of course you are, but I think it's pretty silly to be so scared of sex that you break up with the most crushed-on guy in the school!"

That breaks Lindsay's stony silence, and she laughs, "aaaw, is the poor liddle baby scared of the big mean dicky-poo?"

We all join in, and the tension eases. "Sorry guys," I say, "but you're gonna have to get your jollies some other way, no sex stories from me!" They groan in mock disappointment, and the atmosphere lightens.

Our conversation is insubstantial until Juliet Sykes enters the cafeteria, floating on unseen breezes. Ally looks over my shoulder and giggles, "_psycho killer, qu'est-ce que c'est_." Lindsay immediately starts her knife stabbing, screeching routine. I see Juliet's shoulders slightly hunch as the screeching and stabbing spreads throughout the room. I really can't bear to watch this now that I know the depth of the impact Lindsay's cruelty is having.

"Hey, Lindsay," I say loudly, "knock it off will you, I'm getting pretty sick of hearing that God-awful screeching."

"What, you a freak-lover now? You want to go all lezbo with Juliet because you're so scared of dicks?" Lindsay's teasing has a harsh edge, as always, but I decide to ignore it, also as always, in favour of diffusing the tension.

"No way! I want to go lezbo with YOU Lindsay!" I laugh as I throw myself at her, planting kisses all over her face as she shrieks and pushes me away. Elody and Ally hoot and squeal with glee and start throwing French fries and cheering me on.

"Get her Sam, she's always had the hots for you!"

"No need to pretend Lindsay, do what feels right!"

Eventually I give up and we all collapse, breathless with laughter, into different chairs. "You," says Lindsay between gasps, "are totally whacked today, you know that? Did someone slip some magic mushrooms into your coffee or something?"

"It's a crazy kind of day," I respond mildly, "only going to get crazier."

"Uuuugh," Lindsay moans, melodramatically dropping her head onto her arms, "YOU can't get any crazier than you're already being! We'd better have normal Sam back by tonight, or I'm staging an intervention."

I grab my bag and stand up to go, and volley back "No promises!" over my shoulder as I head to my next class. Never in my life have I been so excited for math.

Of course in my eagerness I arrive early and end up sitting alone in the room feeling the excitement transform into nervousness, then into something close to panic. I try to reassure myself that this is going to work, that on all the other February twelfths I've gone through Kent has wanted me, that he surely won't reject me this time, that he gave me a thumbs up when I broke up with Rob...this mental pep-talk is interrupted by Mr. Daimler's now-cringe inducing voice asking "So...rose day...got a hot date tonight?"

"I hope so," I respond quietly, and honestly. Then, recalling the gross feel of his thick tongue in my mouth, his hands pawing at me, I say, "too bad you don't."

"What makes you think I don't have a date?" He says, too sharply, offence obvious in his voice.

"Because, if you had a _real_ girlfriend, you wouldn't need to hit on high school students," I respond flatly, and feel a grim satisfaction as he squirms, fiddles with his papers, and does his best to ignore me as the rest of the class filters in.

Kent rushes in last, almost late, and his textbook slides out of his un-zipped backpack with a resounding bang. He quickly retrieves it, then smiles at me and says "disaster" while pointing at himself. Dazed at his sudden presence, I can only smile back as he heads to his seat.

Just as Mr. Daimler clears his throat to prepare his "teacher voice," the moment I have been waiting for, dreading, and dreaming of all day arrives as the rose girls enter the class, greeted by giggles and murmurs from the students and a roll of the eyes from Mr. Daimler. "Ok girls, make it quick," he says before giving in to the inevitable.

Juliet's sister Marian approaches me and quietly says "I have five roses here for you."

"Wow, thanks Marian," I say. She is clearly shocked that I know her name. "but there's only one I'm really hoping for. Maybe the fates will be kind and it will be the prettiest one, umm...this one!" I say, picking Kent's beautiful rose out of the bunch. I open it to see the now-familiar _Don't Drink and Love_ cartoon, and smile, "yup, this is the one! You keep the rest of those Marian."

"But, you don't...you don't want them?" She is utterly perplexed, and with good reason. Yesterday nothing would have made me give up roses, and the prestige that goes with them. But today, things are different. Today, I can see the absurdity of Cupid Day, of labelling some foods as "unacceptable", of popularity, of almost everything that mattered to me on February eleventh.

"No, you go ahead; it's a good-luck gift for your swim meet."

Her eyes practically bug out of her head in surprise, and she stammers, "o-okay, th-thank you."

"Come on ladies, enough chit-chat," says Mr. Daimler, and I share a conspiratorial smile with Marian as she moves away. I watch as she heads towards Kent, and my breath hitches in my throat as she selects a single rose and hands it to him. I know I'm being incredibly obvious, but I continue to stare as Kent accepts the rose with a smile and opens the card. I watch as his face freezes, and fight a sudden wild urge to laugh when his mouth falls open as he stares at the note that I know reads: You're already my hero. xoxo – Sam ¤

He slowly raises his head and meets my gaze. My face goes hot, and I know that I am blushing horribly. My heart hitches as I gaze into his green eyes, now holding an unfathomable expression. "Ahem, if Ms. Kingston and Mr. McFuller would please return to earth, we will get started." Kent and I twitch, startled, and quickly face forward to a chorus of giggles from the rest of the class. I can feel my cheeks burn, and I know that I look "red and white and weird all over" as I hunch down in my chair.

The next 45 minutes are the most agonizing of my life as my thoughts spin from "please let this end so I can talk to him," to "please let this last forever so that I don't have to hear his rejection," to "I wish he wasn't having a party tonight so that I could have him to myself," to "oh God, when he rejects me do I still have to go to the party," to..._b'riing_. And just like that, in the middle of my frantic musings, the bell rings and the moment has arrived.

I grab my stuff and head straight to the door, refusing to look around or make eye contact with anybody. Then I duck through and to the left, putting my books on the ground and leaning against the wall. I press my palms flat to the cool tiles, willing them to stop shaking.

I watch as Kent practically leaps through the door, scanning the crowd, a look of confusion on his face. Then I realize that my sudden departure must have made him think I'd run away, leaving him with no explanation for the rose. My spirit sinks. I was so focused on my own discomfit that I never stopped to think that he probably felt the same way.

"Kent," I say, too softly, more softly than I meant to, but somehow he hears me and spins around. When his eyes find me, he grins and says "I thought you ran off somewhere!"

"Sorry," I say, unable to match his carefree tone, "thank you for the rose."

"Hey, you're welcome. And thanks for my rose too..." He's close now, right in front of me, and I smell that intoxicating mixture of laundry detergent and freshly cut grass, "but I don't understand, how did you know..."

I look up into his eyes and whisper, "maybe I know you better than you think."

I notice that Kent is wearing a corduroy jacket when I realize that my hand, without conscious direction, has wrapped itself around the flap of that jacket and is actually _pulling_ Kent closer. I immediately stop the pulling, but can't bring myself to let go.

"I'm sorry," Kent breathes, and my heart turns to lead, "but I have to kiss you now." He cups my chin in his hand and as he presses his lips to mine my stomach flips with giddy pleasure and jubilation. I wrap my arms are around his neck, relishing the feel of his warm hand on my lower back holding me to him, and we are lost, completely lost in each other.

A sharp "Hey!" jerks us back into reality, a reality in which we are fully making out in the hallway. Mr. Daimler is glaring at us and he says "Knock it off guys, that's not appropriate."

Kent is beaming and triumphant, and I can't help but giggle and call, "I guess I'm going to get that hot date after all Mr. Daimler!" I see his shoulders stiffen, but he otherwise ignores me as he walks towards the teachers' lounge.

Kent turns his eyes back to mine, and I give myself a moment to lose myself in their depths. "Wow", he breathes, "okay. Wow." I giggle again at his incoherence, feeling the heady rush of joy and desire coursing through my veins.

Suddenly I remember the other half, the _important_ half, of my mission for the day. Kent immediately senses the change in my expression. "What's wrong?" he asks sharply, "Did I..."

"No, of course...no, it's not you," I stammer in reply to his uncompleted question. "I...I need your help with something. I need your advice."

"My...advice?" He seems utterly perplexed. "Okay, well, I'll try." He steps away from me, forcing me to remove my hands from where they had been resting on his chest. I wonder briefly if he thinks that I staged all this in order to get something from him, but I can't worry about that now. What I'm doing is too important to be sidetracked.

"It's Juliet. You know, Juliet Sykes?"

"Yeah," he draws the word out slightly, sounding very unsure. "I know you don't like her, but..."

"No! I like her just fine, it's Lindsay, and I know why that is, and I'm so worried..."

Kent interrupts me, "Why don't you just tell me everything." I take a shaky breath and begin. I tell him about Lindsay and Juliet's history, about the incident at summer camp and Lindsay's betrayal. I tell him about talking to Juliet in the bathroom, making it sound as if it happened yesterday. Then I tell him about Juliet's plan to kill herself tonight.

"How do you know that?" He asks, interrupting me.

Oh God. How do I explain? "Um...well," I improvise on the spot, "it's awful but Lindsay stole Juliet's journal, and it contained all this stuff about how she was worthless, and all these really detailed plans for killing herself. It really scared me. Lindsay thought it was hilarious, but it didn't sound like a joke to me, it sounded serious. I'm so scared, and I don't know what to do!"

"It's okay," Kent sounds reassuring as he envelops me in a hug. I bury my face in his shoulder, and can't help but inhale his scent and feel a faint fizz of my earlier jubilance. Then Kent pulls back and holds me by the shoulders. His eyes bore into mine as he says, "we have to tell someone."

I can hear the conviction in his tone, and I feel a click in my brain. Of course we have to tell someone! What was I thinking, trying to fix this problem myself? Juliet needs real help, professional help, help that I can't possibly give her. I exhale slowly, "you're right. Of course you're right. Should we go to Mrs. Morris?"

"Yes, I think we should, the sooner the better. It sounds like Juliet is seriously depressed. I would feel just awful if anything happened to her." Kent looks genuinely concerned, and I am reminded again of just how much I do not deserve him. I actually saw Juliet kill herself, and I still spent days acting ridiculous - seducing teachers, going on shopping sprees, and generally feeling sorry for myself. Yet Kent hears that there may be a risk, and he is filled with a deep and genuine concern for her well-being. I mentally shake myself - I cannot change the past, but I can try to be a better person in the future. Who better than Kent to show me how?

We walk slowly to Mrs. Morris' office. She greets us brightly, but her mood quickly darkens as I again tell my half-made-up yet completely true story. Her tone is grave as she says, "Now Sam, what you're saying is really serious. I know you don't feel very...fondly towards Ms. Sykes, but this really isn't the kind of thing that one should joke about."

I am gutted. I know that I deserved Mrs. Morris' harsh appraisal and doubt, but this evidence that everyone can see what I monster I am is horrifying. Kent's eyes flash with anger as he begins, "Now, Mrs. Morris, Sam is..."

I cut off his impassioned defense. "No, Kent, she's right. I have been horrible to Juliet." I feel hot tears roll down my cheeks, and continue "I never dreamed that she..."

"Okay, you're okay dear," Mrs. Morris' voice is gentler now, and she hands me a tissue. I blow my nose, but can't stop the tears that continue to leak from my eyes. I dab at them fruitlessly, and am gratified when Kent puts a reassuring arm around my shoulders. "Now, you don't worry about this anymore. I'll get Ms. Sykes' parents in here, and we'll all make sure that she gets the care she needs."

This is clearly a dismissal, but I am afraid that she doesn't realize the severity and immediacy of the risk. I pull away from Kent and clutch at the nurse's hand, "Mrs. Morris, please, please promise me that she'll go to a hospital. I'm so scared, I really think she means to kill herself tonight, please promise me..."

"Okay dear, don't worry. I'll make sure that Juliet gets the help she needs. You've done your duty, now you can relax."

I am surprised when she grips my hand between both of hers, "I'm glad to see you doing the right thing Sam. I've always believed that you're a kind girl at heart. Just try not to get so swept up in your own life...the world is so much bigger than any of us."

I can't reply, just duck my head as we leave. Kent's hand is on my back, guiding me. "Sorry you had to see that," I say, as we walk down the corridor towards the senior wing of classrooms.

"What do you mean?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"See me break down like that, I guess." Kent stops and turns me to face him. When I don't look at him, he gently tips up my chin until our eyes meet. "Don't be," he says quietly, but firmly. "You were great. You did the right thing. Anyone would be afraid and upset in this situation." Then he pulls me into him and wraps his long arms around me. I clutch at the back of his coat and bury my face in his shoulder, feeling both unworthy of and so incredibly grateful for this moment.

Kent pulls away, his lips quirked into a kind of half smile. "Hey, I know this is a terrible time for this but...have you heard that I'm having a party tonight?"

I give a kind of laugh that's not a laugh, more a single loud exhalation of air, and nod, "yeah, I think everyone's heard about the party."

"Well...do you think you would want to come? If you're free that is. You don't have to, but it would be cool if you could drop by maybe."

Despite the note, the kiss, and the hug we have just shared, he still sounds so unsure, as though he has been given a gift that at any moment might be snatched away. I look into his eyes, trying to project the truth - that this gift is for keeps. "Of course. Of course I'll come to your party. Although..."

"What? You don't have to if you have other plans. Maybe we could just hang out some other time, like over spring break or maybe this summer." His voice sounds strange, almost conciliatory.

"What?" I am shocked by this suggestion - why would he want to wait two weeks to see each other again, let alone four months? "Spring break?" I can hear the offense in my tone, and hope that he can't.

"Well, I just thought," his gaze falls to the floor, "I just thought maybe you wouldn't want to hang out at school," his eyes lift back to mine, earnest now, "and that's okay! I understand that, I really do, I know your friends don't exactly like me and..."

I cut him off, "Stop. Of _course_ I want to hang out with you at school, and if my friends can't see how great...well anyway. What I was going to say before is that I wish we could spend some time together, like, alone, instead of at a huge party. And I was going to ask if maybe I could come to your place right after school, so that we could hang out for a few hours before everyone shows up. I was just...embarrassed, you know?"

I can't even describe the look on his face - incredulous, happy, and just the tiniest bit wary, like a six-year-old who has just been told his divorced parents really are getting back together. "Okay," he breathes, "okay yeah, that would be great."

I smile, wishing that his joy could be pure, and not marred by the fear that my interest in him is just a sham, a set-up for a cruel joke. "So, maybe I could get a ride with you after school? We could meet on the hill."

"That sounds great. Wow, really great." I can hear the hope in his voice, and I just can't help burying both of my hands in his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. A kiss that is destined to be quite short, as the bell rings and the hall floods with students. "See you later!" I call as we are swept in opposite directions by the crowd.

I sit through my next class in a daze, my emotions raging wildly from fear and guilt to anxious joy and back again. I can barely keep myself together; much less actually focus on what Ms. Goodman is trying to teach us.

The bell finally rings, and I escape into the hall. I cut seventh period, and though I usually hang out with Lindsay at TCBY or the smokers' lounge, today I just want to be alone. I head towards the math wing, confident that none of the other girls will be anywhere near that part of the school. I'm hoping to find an empty classroom or quiet nook to hole up in for the next hour.

As I near Mrs. Morris' office I hear voices coming from inside. I slow down and lean against the wall near the door. Although I can't make out what's being said, I can make out multiple adult voices and...crying? Yes, definitely crying. Oh my God, it must be Juliet and her parents. I look around, and after a glance through the window, duck into the empty classroom across the hall. I leave the door slightly ajar and sit behind it, listening.

After what seems like forever, I hear Mrs. Morris' door open, and a weary female voice says "Thank you so much Annette. We'll...we'll take it from here." She sounds broken and lost, not resolute and determined as I had hoped. Someone with that voice might prefer to accept false reassurance than to make the difficult decision that I need her to make.

As the footsteps retreat, I jump up and glance down the hall. I see three blond heads - one faded, one bowed, and one trailing behind. Marian. On impulse, I dart into the hall and shout, "Hey, Marian!"

She turns, startled, and then clearly confused when she sees me. Her glance turns quickly back to her departing mother and sister. "Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" I continue, ignoring her obvious reluctance.

"Well...okay, but I have to catch up." I am both appalled and, in the circumstances, grateful that she is too afraid of offending me to refuse.

"Thanks, sorry. Listen, Marian, I know what's going on with Juliet."

"You do?" She sounds incredulous, "how?"

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you have to make sure that your mom takes her to the hospital, okay? It's really important. You have to _promise_ me that you will do everything you can to make that happen." My voice is urgent and sincere, but I'm afraid I sound like a psychopath.

"I can...I can try," Marian says quietly, "but why do you..." she trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished, but I can hear the unsaid word reverberating in my ears.

"I care, Marian, I really do. But whether you believe that or not, you _have_ to make sure Juliet gets to a hospital. If she doesn't, I'm afraid...I'm afraid..." now it's my turn to trail off, but I can tell from the tears that have sprung up in Marian's eyes that she knows what I'm not saying.

"Okay. Yes. I will. I will make sure." She has more resolve in her voice now, enough to take the edge off my anxiety. She nods, then sprints off after her family, rejoining them just as they reach the door.

Forty minutes later the final bell rings. I jump, startled out of a fitful reverie. My nerves are suddenly on fire, and my heart is racing. I'm going to Kent's house. Just him and me. What was I thinking, suggesting that? I force myself to take a deep breath and climb to my feet. As I walk I give myself a mental pep talk, "It's _Kent_, you know he likes you. Just be nice, and everything will be fine. This is what you want. It's Kent, you love him..." I gasp as that thought bursts unbidden into my mind. Okay, so the pep talk isn't working, maybe rhythmic breathing will? I count my breaths, "in for five, hold for five, out for five, hold for five...", and make my way towards the hill.

Kent is waiting there, and I can tell from his posture that he's nervous. Is he afraid that this will be it, the punch-line of the joke? I can tell when he sees me because his posture straightens and a wide smile breaks out across his face as he bounds towards me. "Hey!" he says, breathless and happy, "You're here!"

"Of course," I say, "of course I am. Let's get going." I don't want to say it, but I'm afraid of running into Lindsay and the other girls. I know they will cause a scene and I don't want to deal with that right now. Tonight it will be unavoidable, but maybe we can snatch these few hours for ourselves. Kent leads me to his car, and he even takes my bag and opens the door for me. As we pull out I see Lindsay and Ally walking across the seniors' parking lot. I try to shrink into the seat, but I see Ally's jaw drop as she clutches at Lindsay's arm. As we pull away, I can see Ally speaking excitedly to Lindsay, and I let out a barely audible groan.

"What is it?" Kent asks, glancing over at me.

"Nothing important, I'm just about to get hit with some drama." I say, resigned.

"Drama? Why?" He sounds wary now, tense.

"Well it's just...I didn't tell Lindsay and the others that I was going to your place after school. But Ally just saw me, so I'm probably about to get bombarded," just at that moment my phone buzzes, then buzzes again, then again. Three text messages. I groan, and start reading.

Lindsay: "WTF girl? Where are you going with Kent McFreaky? Are you going crazy? This is bullshit."

Ally: "Why are you blowing us off? What is wrong with you today? Where are you, we're coming to get you."

Elody: "Ally just told me that she saw you in a car with Kent. That can't be true though, right? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Drama?" Kent asks, his eyes on the road and his lips tight.

"Yeah, sorry. I'll just send them a quick text and then shut it off. Just a sec."

Sam to Lindsay, Ally & Elody: "Chill out guys! He's just giving me a ride. I have to do family stuff this afternoon. I'll see you at the party later."

I hit send, then power down the phone and put it away. "Sorry about that," I say, "I'm kind of breaking out of my usual mold today, and the girls aren't taking it too well." I smile over at him, but his gaze remains on the road, both hands tight on the steering wheel. "Hey," I say softly, "hey, I'm sorry, I really am." I put my hand on his arm, and he softens, glancing towards me and then releasing the wheel with his right hand. I thread my fingers through his hand and he returns the squeeze I give it.

"I just," he begins, "can you tell me what's going on? I've been really thrown off balance today. I mean, it's great! But I can't tell what you're doing, what you're thinking. Could you maybe help me out a bit?" He sounds uncertain, and I translate his words in my head, _"Hey, you've treated me like shit for the last seven years, and suddenly you're acting like my girlfriend. Are you building me up just to laugh when you crush me?"_

"I'm sorry I've been such a jerk," I say, my voice smaller than I want it to be, "I want to change, I'm trying to change. And I," God it shouldn't be this hard to say, "I really, I really...like you. A lot. And I hope that you..."

"Really? You're not just saying that? Please don't screw with me Sam, you know, you have to know that I've lov..." he stops suddenly, and I see the blush blaze up his neck and into his cheeks as he realizes what he's almost said, "I've liked you forever. You know that."

We are turning into his laneway when I whisper, "that makes me so happy Kent. You make me so happy." We say nothing as he drives down the long driveway, finally parking in front of the large white house.

He turns to me, looking more like his usual, optimistic self, "so, before we go in I'd really like to clear something up. Are you, Sam Kingston, actually saying that you want to be my _girlfriend_?" His voice rises in what I assume is a mix of incredulity and nerves, and I laugh.

"Yes. Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying Kent." I lean over and kiss him softly on the lips, before pulling back and giggling at the dumbstruck expression on his face. I climb out of the car, saying "come on Kent, give me the grand tour."

As he shows me around, I can't help but think of memories of other February twelfths. The dining room where he found me crying; the kitchen, where he comforted me with real hot chocolate and marshmallows after Elody died; the room upstairs where Juliet confronted us and we put the final nail in her coffin; the doorway, where he told me I was just a shallow bitch. I hold Kent's hand and try to push these memories to the back of my mind.

We end up on the couch in the living room. We discuss our college plans, and I am thrilled, probably in vain, that BU is his first choice. He tells me all about his friends, none of whom I would ever have spoken to yesterday, but who now sound quirky and fun, like people I would like to know.

I am ashamed to realize that there is very little that I have done in the last seven years that I want to share with him. I don't want to admit that I spend every Friday out drinking, or tell stories about the cruel jokes Lindsay and the rest of us play on undeserving victims. Instead, I mostly listen, adding only the occasional triviality. He must notice the unnaturalness of this, because in one pause he asks, "so, don't you ride horses anymore?"

"No," I say, "I just...outgrew it I guess." This is a lie, of course. I didn't outgrow horseback riding; I was shamed out of it.

"Doesn't seem like something a person would outgrow," Kent says mildly.

I blush and nod, "well, maybe I didn't outgrow it really. Lindsay told me it was lame and childish, so I told my parents I wanted to stop."

"Do you miss it?"

"Yes. So much. It was my favourite thing."

Kent scoots closer to me and drapes an arm over my shoulder, tucking me against his side. I turn my knees so that they rest on his thighs, and put a hand on his chest. "I should warn you," I say, then stop, uncertain of how to continue.

"Warn me of what?"

"Well, it's my friends. You know, Lindsay, Ally, and Elody. They don't really like you. They, well I should say we, can be really mean, so there might be a scene tonight when they see us together." I can feel the muscles of Kent's chest tighten under my palm. While this is pleasantly distracting, I know that I have to finish this conversation.

"Okay," he says, drawing the word out, "what do you want to do?"

"Well, I don't really want to DO anything. I'll do my best to deal with them, but I just wanted to warn you," a horrible thought springs unbidden into my mind, and I gasp involuntarily.

"What?" Kent asks, startled.

"Oh no," I whisper, and to my horror I feel two hot tears run down my face.

"What?" Kent says again, more gently. He wipes the tears away with his thumb, "what it is?"

"O God, it's just…they'll probably tell you that I've said bad things about you, they'll probably try to convince you, to convince _me_, that I hate you." I shudder, thinking of the cruel, horrible jokes I had made about Kent just days before. I did not doubt that Lindsay, in an attempt to make me return to my normal self, would take any opportunity to parrot my words back to me and worse, repeat them to Kent.

Kent goes completely still, then removes his arm from around my shoulders. "But, I thought, from the way you spoke today…I thought you _liked_ me Sam, you told me you wanted to be my girlfriend! Why would you say that if you really hate me?" To my utter, absolute horror, Kent's voice is starting to shake, and I get the unmistakable impression that he is trying to hold back tears.

I try to put my arms around him, but Kent resists. "That's the wrong question Kent," I say, "the real question is why I said mean things about you when I actually _liked_ you. And the answer to that is the same as the answer to why I quit horseback riding. I was willing to throw away _anything_ to be popular. And Lindsay…well Lindsay often requires that we make sacrifices to stay on her good side. I've sacrificed so much for that…not only my favorite hobby and the guy I like, but my own sense of human decency, my own ethical code. I chose popularity over being a good person, over love," oh God did I just say that?, "over _everything_. Kent, please, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm trying to change."

Throughout my impassioned monologue, Kent has gazed at me with level eyes. Although his expression has softened, he still looks wary. "Okay. Okay Sam, I believe you. You realize it's going to be hard though, right? I mean, from the sound of it, if you insist on dating me, Lindsay will dump you, and Ally and Elody will probably follow."

I take a deep breath and feel my mouth quirk to the side, "You might be right. They're my best friends though, you know? I can't imagine that would change just because I'm dating someone they don't approve of. There will just be an initial wave of drama then everything will calm down again."

Kent looks uncertain and presses on, "but, Sam, what if they _don't_ want to be your friend anymore because of me? Are you really willing to take that risk?"

Although I want to believe that Lindsay cares enough about our friendship to overlook my social suicide in the form of an entirely inappropriate boyfriend, Kent's warning has the resonance of truth behind it. "I hope you're wrong Kent, I really do. But if they can just stop being friends with me because of something like that, then I guess we weren't ever really friends at all, and I just didn't know it. If push comes to shove, I'll choose the person who has already proven that they'll stand by my side, even when I'm not at my best." I make a wry face and glance at Kent through my lashes. The look on his face is so tender that it takes my breath away. He caresses my cheek and leans forward to give me the softest, sweetest kiss I have ever experienced.

Of course, my teenage hormones being what they are, the kiss swiftly transforms into something altogether more urgent. Just as I am contemplating forcibly climbing onto Kent's lap, he extricates himself from my arms with a grin.

Kent laughs, he has already bounced back to his normal, cheerful self, "Well, I think we have that settled. Tonight, you will be embroiled in horrible, incomprehensible female drama - the result of which remains to be seen. I, the unwitting victim, will hear unpleasant truths that are actually falsehoods. Our plan - weather the storm, take the consequences, get them back by being deliriously happy and throwing it in their faces. Sound good?"

Although my stomach sinks at the thought of the confrontation to come, I can't help but laugh and reply, "sounds great Kent, sounds perfect."

We settle back, and I suggest that maybe we should unwind for a bit by watching television. We put on some comedy show, and Kent pulls me back against his side. Without the serious conversation to distract me, I am hyper aware of his body against mine. Slowly, trying to be surreptitious, I arrange myself so that I am as close to him as possible given that he is still, infuriatingly, sitting up.

I feel Kent's breathing quicken, then he opens his mouth and a torrent of words spill out. "So, this guy's pretty good, yeah? I've heard people say that he reminds them of Mitch Hedburg, but I don't really see it. I mean, he's good, but not _that_ good, you know what I mean? And his jokes are more lively, somehow, he's not as droll as Hedburg, don't you think? I can't imagine him delivering the frozen banana joke at all, so really…"

As adorable as it is, this is no time for a Kent McFuller babble. I resort to drastic measures. Ignoring Kent's continued monologue, I lean in and, after nuzzling in against his neck I open my mouth and allow myself to taste his skin with my tongue, and caress it with my lips. The flow of Kent's words immediately stops, and I know I've got him.

"So," I say, with a passable impression of calm, "when are we going to finish the tour?"

"I think I showed you everything Sam," Kent says, his voice tremulous.

"Huh," I respond, "I don't remember seeing your room. That's okay, I think I remember where it is." I hop up, pulling him behind me by the hand, and lead him to his bedroom. Once inside, I turn and, pushing him backwards against the door, kiss him with every ounce of the passion I have been restraining all day, since that first moment outside of math class.

I feel, rather than hear, Kent's sigh as he opens his mouth to mine and our tongues meet with a flash of electricity that flows throughout my body, leaving heat and near painful desire in its wake. Still kissing, I grab the front of Kent's shirt and pull him to the bed, where, despite my efforts, he manages to fall next to me. I can tell that part of him wants to pull away, but that he is suffering from the same liquid passion that has enveloped me, such that the mere thought of ceasing is anathema.

I press my body close to him, and I can feel his lust for me, hot and hard against my stomach. Whenever I felt Rob's erection, as he tried to rub it against my thigh or butt, my instinct was always to move away, to avoid it. Now, the knowledge that Kent is just as carried away in this moment as I am is intoxicating. I pull myself even closer against him, and am exultant when I am rewarded with a moan of desire.

After a few moments, even the fabric of our shirts becomes an intolerable distance, and I pull his blue button-down out of his waistband and run my hands up over his bare back, which elicits a shudder. In response, I feel Kent's tentative touch on the small strip of skin above my jeans on my back and he whispers, "Sam, is this okay, are you sure?"

"Oh God yes, please Kent," I am both embarrassed and pleased to hear that my arousal is clear in my voice, which is throaty and low. At my encouragement, Kent slips his warm hand under my shirt and up my spine. I feel as though I am going to explode right out of my skin, I don't understand how my body can handle these intense feelings. And then, Kent moves his hand around to my stomach, and a hot stab of desire rips through me. He must hear me gasp, or feel my stomach tense under his hand, because he stops, concerned, and asks "are you okay? I'm sorry Sam, I don't want to do anything that upsets you."

"You are _not_ upsetting me Kent I'm just really, uh, turned on I guess, sorry."

His face breaks into a huge grin and he says "oh my God, I think that's the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life."

I take advantage of the moment to begin unbuttoning his shirt, and kissing each inch of his smooth chest as it is revealed. When my lips reach his abdomen I can feel the muscles of his stomach contract with each touch. Perhaps he is suffering the same lightning bolts as I did moments ago. Finally I reach the last button and, with Kent's cooperation, I manage to draw the shirt off over his shoulders and toss it to the floor.

I sit on my knees and admire Kent's bare torso. He is gazing at me with a look I cannot interpret. Rather than try, I draw my own shirt over my head in one quick motion. When I look again, the expression on Kent's face has been transformed to one of shock, and his eyes are somewhat bleary, like those of a drunk man. When I reach behind my back to unhook my bra, I hear him gasp, "Oh God," and I feel his hands on either side of my waist. As I pull off my bra, he whispers, "Sam, Jesus, you are so beautiful."

I lay back down beside him and we explore each other with hands and lips. I have just let my thumb dip beneath the waistband of Kent's pants when he stops me, "listen, Sam, I…well, I've never really done this, you know? I mean, I've done, I guess, what I mean is, I'm a…well, you know."

"Yeah," I respond, "me too."

"Really?" Kent says with surprise, and I laugh. "Oh thanks!" I tease, punching him on the shoulder.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that" Kent sputters.

I laugh again, "no it's okay, my friends were pretty horrified by it too. I just, it never felt right, you know? Not like this." I trail one finger down his chest, but Kent catches my hand and holds it when I reach his abdomen.

"I know this is like, the least manly thing ever," says Kent, "but I don't want to do it today. I want to wait, just enjoy being together for a while first. I mean, I _want_ to do it right now, immediately, but my more rational self wants to wait."

If I were a normal girl, not a dead girl reliving the same day ad infinitum, I would be pleased by this pronouncement. In the circumstances, I am actually disappointed, but know I can't really push the matter. "Of course, of course that's fine Kent. Although I have to confess I'm going to need a cold shower if we're just going to stop."

"Hey," Kent laughs, "I didn't say we couldn't do _anything_, just maybe save the main event for some other day."

"Now that," I respond, appeased, "I can agree with."

After that, our conversation becomes somewhat sparse, and in the end it is reduced to nothing more than sighs, gasps, and the occasional giggle.

After some indeterminate time, we are lying tangled up together, and the sharp edge of my need for him has been somewhat blunted. "So," I ask, "what time does this party start?"

Kent glances at the clock and starts, "Shit! It's already seven, and I haven't even started getting the house ready yet. I'd better get going." He glances at me, "do you uh, do you want to grab a quick shower? You can use the one in my parents' room, or…"

"Don't be silly!" I respond, "I want to shower with you, although I wish we didn't have to be quick…" I leave off by kissing him.

"Yeah," he breathes, "me too. Stupid party." We climb out of bed and Kent throws me a towel, which I wrap around myself as we head to the bathroom down the hall. "Why are you throwing a party anyway," I ask, "I didn't think it was your sort of thing."

From behind, I can see the blush that creeps from the small of his back up to his shoulders. It is a very interesting effect. "Uh, no reason really, just thought I should, since I'm a senior and all," Kent mutters, but of course I know he's lying. I know the sweet and sad reason why he's throwing this party - in the hope that if he can lure me into his house, he can convince me to give him a chance. Now that he has that chance, the party serves no real purpose to him. As much as I wish that the party wasn't happening, so that we could spend the whole night wrapped up in each other, I know that it's the best venue for revealing our relationship - like ripping a band-aid off, it's best to get the drama over all at once.

Although I would have liked to linger, we shower quickly, getting only slightly distracted when we soap each other's backs. Back in his room, Kent dresses quickly, in the low slung kakis and oxford shirt that I remember, then rushes from the room, pausing for a moment at the door to give me a big grin and say, "you know what Sam, I think this has been the best day of my life," then he is gone, bouncing down the hall with his usual joie de vivre. I am left standing in a towel, a goofy grin spreading across my face at Kent's words.

I pull my ridiculously short skirt on, then raid Kent's closet in hopes of finding a shirt that I can pull off - the thought of putting that ridiculous tank top back on is most unappealing. Kent's closet is surprisingly neat - all of his ridiculous blazers are clean and carefully hung, along with a wide selection of button-down shirts. I settle on a dark blue shirt of thick cotton and slip it on. It's too big, of course, but once I've rolled up the sleeves and tied the ends together around my waist, it doesn't look _too_ bad.

Then inspiration hits me - if Kent wears wife beaters (or _undershirts_, as my mother insists I call them), one might be tight enough to not look ridiculous on me. I quickly find Kent's underwear drawer and start rummaging through it, (boxers, not briefs - thank God), when Kent bursts back into the room, saying, "Sam, do you think ten bags…"

I spin around guiltily and see Kent's dumbfounded expression. "Are you," he asks, "are you going through my underwear?" Then, before I have a chance to reply, he starts cracking up. Eventually he regains control of himself, wiping his eyes and saying "Oh God, Sam, your face, oh my God, I'm dying," then he comes over and wraps me in a bear hug, which I return despite my humiliation.

"So…" Kent says, stepping back, "care to explain exactly why I caught you riffling through my unmentionables? I mean, I understand that my sex appeal is overwhelming, but a panty raid is hardly necessary."

I feel myself blushing again as I stammer to explain, "I was kind of…stealing your clothes,"

"Yes I noticed that," Kent interrupts, "and I'm quite bereft that I will never be able to wear that shirt again."

"What?" Although I know he's just teasing, I'm still too embarrassed and flat-footed to think of any witty banter of my own, so I just gape at him. This, of course, prompts another bout of laughter. Once that has passed, Kent's demeanor softens, and he takes me in his arms as he explains, "I can't wear it again, because it will never look as good on me as it does on you right now."

I blush against his chest, and tighten the grip of my arms around his ribs, pressing my fingers into the fabric of his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin beneath. I take a deep breath and explain, "I was just looking for an undershirt, I thought if you have one it might fit me okay."

"Aha! That, I can help you with." Kent opens the drawer below the one I'd been pawing through, and presents it to me with a flourish of his hand, "milady is welcome to any article she may find in my humble collection." With a bow, he exits the room.

After trying on a couple with disastrous results, I manage to find one white undershirt that clings to my breasts and waist, and which shows just a peek of my bra at the sides. I seriously do not understand why men's shirts always have such huge armholes. In my opinion it always looks ridiculous.

I pull the undershirt on then shrug back into the blue button down, this time leaving it unbuttoned and tying it around my waist. I drag a brush through my hair and do a sketchy make-up job with the emergency supplies I keep in my bag. Surveying the results in the mirror, I am not too horrified. Replacing the red feathered tank top with Kent's shirts has made the outfit considerably less slutty, which is all to the good.

My ministrations complete, I steel myself and turn my phone back on. It immediately starts buzzing to inform me that I have new text messages. Before I face them, however, there's something more important that I have to do. I type in the phone number from memory, and have to wait three rings until a shy female voice answers, "H-hello?"

"Marian?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Sam, Sam Kingston from school."

"Oh. Hi Sam."

I feel my heart pounding in my chest as I ask, "so, is Juliet in the hospital?"

"Yeah. She was really upset, but in the end she admitted everything to my mom," Marian's voice is wavering, "she's staying at the hospital until my parents can get her admitted to a facility, or something."

The relief is so intense that it is almost painful, and I exhale the breath I didn't even realize I was holding, "great, that's so great. Thanks for telling me Marian, I was really worried."

"Yeah, me too. I think it's going to be okay though."

"Alright, well, I guess I'll see you around?"

"Okay, yeah." As I hang up, my relief is so great that I actually feel prepared to face the barrage of texts I've received from the girls since my disappearing act. My Inbox shows 13 new messages, which isn't as bad as I'd expected.

Lindsay: bullshit

Elody: What family stuff? Is everything okay? We would have given you a ride!

Ally: Why didn't you tell us? And how does that explain Kent McFreaky?

Elody: I'm worried, are you okay?

Ally: Lindsay's pissed. She says you're being a freak today.

Elody: WHERE ARE YOU? We went to your house, and your mom didn't know.

Ally: So now you're lying to us? Wtf?

Elody: Are you mad at us or something? Why are you being so weird?

Elody: Lindsay thinks you're fucking McFreaky? Crazy, right?

Ally: Did you actually ditch us to suck McFreaky's dick? What the hell is wrong with you?

Ally: FUCKING RESPOND

Elody: Why aren't you responding to us?

Lindsay: We'll save you at the party tonight. You're obviously already there.

The last message, from Lindsay, was sent at 5:30 pm. I assume that after that Lindsay told Ally and Elody to stop texting. I'm surprised that Lindsay figured out what was going on so quickly - in her world I hated Kent as recently as yesterday.

Sam to Lindsay, Ally & Elody: I'll see you at the party. I don't need to be saved. Sorry about ditching you.

I hit send, turn my phone off, and pad barefoot down the hall in search of Kent. The house looks much as I remember it from the other iterations of this party, with two kegs in the kitchen, bowls of chips strategically placed in every room, and even the sign on the dining room door imploring guests not to enter. I find Kent in the kitchen, frenetically wiping the counters. I can't help but laugh.

"What?" he asked turning to me.

"It's so sweet that you're cleaning up, but nobody's going to notice. And we'll be doing plenty of cleaning tomorrow to deal with the aftermath."

Kent flashes me a grin and throws the rag in the sink, "You're probably right. I guess I'm just anxious."

I wrap my arms around his waist and lean back to look at him, "well, I can think of much better ways to relieve your anxiety than cleaning. And to be frank, you are looking ridiculously hot right now."

Kent laughs as he returns my embrace and kisses me, "I think I'll take you up on that," he says, burying his face in my neck and pulling me closer. Unfortunately, it is not to be, for just at that moment we hear a car door slam.

"Uh-oh," I say, "hold on to your butt," as we hear several more car doors and the excited babble of voices approaching.

Kent bounds to the foyer, with me trailing behind him. Kent throws open the door, and although I notice his eyes widen at the sight of at least 20 people milling about outside, he quickly recovers and shouts, "come on in! Kegs are in the kitchen!"

The group is mainly made up of juniors, mid-level popular seniors, and a few sophomore girls trailing at the end. I remember from my own sophomore year that arriving early at parties is kind of a duty. The less popular have to make sure that the party is already in full swing by the time the elite seniors arrive.

It is not surprising, therefore, that when Emily Jacobson, the leader of the second most popular junior clique, sees me lurking behind Kent, her jaw drops and she immediately grabs her friends and drags them off for an emergency gossip section. Kent notices this and gives me a questioning look. I shrug, "it's weird that I'm here. They're going to try to figure out why."

"Well, if you wanted," Kent moves closer to me, "we could make it really, really obvious why you're here," then he suddenly pounces and grabs me by the waist. I shriek as he spins me around like an idiot. As I assume he planned, every eye is on us as he sets me back on my feet and kisses me with such tender intensity that I cannot help but lose myself in the feel of his lips, the warmth of the skin of his neck, the silky softness of his hair as I bury my fingers in it.

Then one of the guys gives a wolf whistle, and a girl laughingly says, "get a room", and the spell is broken. "I don't know what you do to me," I say, as we release each other.

"What do you mean?" Kent asks teasingly.

"I keep making out with you in inappropriate places! The math wing, at a party while everybody is staring at us. I'm not usually so, out-of-control."

"Oh, so I make you feel out-of-control," I can hear the flirtation in Kent's voice, and he moves in closer and slides his warm hands just under the hem of my shirt and over the soft skin of my stomach. Once again, his touch sends a hot stab of desire right through me, and it's all I can do to keep myself from attacking him again.

I restrain myself to leaning into his hands and twining my fingers in his hair as I whisper, "yes, you do. Completely out-of-control. So STOP IT!" With these last words I force myself to pull away, and glare up at him as he laughs.

"You'd better watch what you say Sam, you're going to give me a big head."

"That's okay, if anyone deserves a big head it's you," I respond lightly, then thread my arm through his and say, "so, do you want to get a drink or get right down to the socializing? That's what hosts are supposed to do right? Socialize?"

Kent's eyes twinkle as he glances down at me, "yes, I definitely have to socialize. And, incidentally, show off the fact that I have somehow managed to land the hottest girl in the school. And, apparently, the horniest too."

I blush, "shut up. It's not my fault you're so irresistible. If you're going to act like that, then _I_ want a drink. I'm going to need it to put up with you."

Laughing, we head to the kitchen, where I wait just inside the door while Kent elbows his way through the crowds to get us each a beer. While I'm waiting, one particularly brave junior girl (Ashley? Allison?) approaches me and says, "so, Kent McFuller?"

"Yep. Kent McFuller."

"I thought you were dating Rob?"

"Well, you obviously weren't in the cafeteria during fifth period. I'm surprised the whole school hasn't heard by this time."

She blushes. Not having heard the latest gossip, especially about popular seniors like me and Rob, is socially unacceptable. I decide to save her the embarrassment of actually having to ask, and explain, "we broke up. I broke up with him."

Her eyes widen in shock, and she squeaks, "you broke up with him? Why?" her voice suddenly gets very hushed, "for Kent?"

I can't help but laugh. It doesn't really matter what I say, to this girl or anybody. I broke up with Rob at lunch and was dating Kent by supper - everyone's going to assume that I left Rob for Kent. I figure I might as well go with it, so answer, "yeah, I guess so. Don't tell Rob though, okay?"

Her eyes go wide and earnest as she says, "oh no, of course not, I won't tell anyone," then she runs off, presumably to repeat every word of our conversation to anyone who will listen.

I'm still laughing when Kent returns with our drinks, "care to share the joke?" he asks.

"It's nothing, just the gossip wheels are already starting. I just had some junior ask if I broke up with Rob for you. I told her I did."

"Is that true?" Kent asks, his tone more serious.

"Not really. I mean, sort of," I take a deep breath, "there were lots of reasons to break up with Rob. There are lots of reasons I want to be with you. So there's some overlap, but I really broke up with Rob because I couldn't stand the thought of being with him for another minute. Anyway, I don't want to talk about Rob right now."

"Well, what do you want to talk about, then?"

"How about how much I love the mole under your eye, and how much I've always wanted to kiss it," I tease, rising on my tiptoes to suit my actions to the words. Kent holds me to him with one arm, and as I glance over his shoulder I see Rob, clearly already buzzed, strut through the door.

Kent feels me tense, and says "what is it?"

"Rob. He just walked in." Kent releases me and turns towards the front door just as Rob is mauling two giggling sophomores.

"Charming," he says.

I roll my eyes, "yeah, he's a real winner."

Just then I see the junior girl, Ashley, or Allison, or whatever, break away from her group of friends and approach Rob, then whisper something in his ear. "Oh no," I breathe, as she gestures towards us with her thumb, and Rob's head pivots until his eyes lock onto Kent, and me skulking behind him.

"McFuller!" Rob roars, and pushes his way through the crowd towards us, trailed by two of his football buddies. Kent squares his shoulders and places himself directly between me and the fast-advancing Rob.

"What the FUCK man!" Rob shouts, his face swiftly turning purple as veins pop out on his neck, "you think you can fuck my girl? You little faggot!" Then Rob's eyes alight on me, cringing behind Kent's back, and I see the spit spray out of his mouth as he sputters, "you little slut. You were cheating on me with this sack of shit? Playing all prude, then fucking this asshole behind my back? You're nothing but a stupid, ugly cunt, you know that!?"

"That's enough." Kent's voice is quiet, but dangerous in its intensity.

"Or what?" Rob's voice is mocking, "you going to beat me up, you little pansy ass?" Kent's fists are clenched into fists by his side as Rob shoves him backwards.

"Look, man" Kent says, his voice still low, "I'd really rather not. Why don't you just go get a beer and forget about this."

"Ooooh, you'd '_rather not_'. Why not sissy-boy? You a fucking coward?" A crowd has gathered around, and a few voices from the back chant "fight, fight, fight!"

I see Kent's shoulders tense, and I'm afraid he's actually going to punch Rob right in his stupid, drunken face, when the crown suddenly parts, and Lindsay forces her way to the center. "What the fuck is going on here?" she demands. She turns to Rob, "come on Cokran, walk it off. Go grab a beer and fuck a sophomore or something."

"Huh," Rob grunts, "maybe I will." Then he turns and shouts, "any takers?" To my disgust, at least four sophomore girls laughingly approach, and he drapes his arms around two of them and heads to the kitchen.

"Okay, okay, show's over," Lindsay says, and the crowd immediately disperses, as much as possible in the confined space.

"So," Lindsay says, her eyes boring into mine, "what the fuck is going on with you? You're coming with me for a serious debrief." Then she shoulders her way past Kent without so much as looking at him, grabs me by the arm, and starts dragging me away.

"Lindsay!" I protest, "come on, you can't just…" I turn my eyes to Kent and mouth, "I'm sorry," before allowing myself to be dragged out to door to where Ally and Elody are waiting on the porch, cigarettes dangling from their lips. Elody offers me one and I accept, letting the smoke fill my lungs and steady my shaking hands.

"Sammy," Elody says, her eyes wide, "when we got here some junior told us that you were dating Kent McFuller; that you guys were making out in front of everyone?" Her voice rises in disbelief.

I sigh, "yeah. Yeah, I guess we were."

"What is _wrong_ with you today?" asks Ally, incredulous, "first you break up with Rob, who you've loved _forever_, then you totally ditch us, and now you're suddenly sucking face with McFuckhead in front of the entire school?! Why are you even _talking_ to him?"

"Uh, he's a really great guy and I just, I dunno, I just wanted…"

Lindsay cuts me off, "So it's true then? You broke up with Rob without consulting us, and then you actually started dating Kent McLoser without talking to us about it? I thought we were friends. Isn't this the kind of thing friends talk about?"

I sigh. Put that way, I feel kind of bad. I know I would be annoyed if one of them so much as went on a date with a guy without running it by the rest of us first. "I know. I'm sorry guys, I really am. I just got carried away I guess."

"Carried away by _Kent McFuller_?" Says Lindsay, unconvinced, "The creepy stalker? You _hate_ him."

"I don't hate him," I say, "I've never had any reason to hate him. I just…I guess I just thought he wasn't cool enough or something."

"He's not!" exclaims Ally, "He wears a fucking _bowler hat_ for God's sake!"

"I know, but he's a great guy really. And I really, I really like him. I don't know, it came over me all of a sudden, so..."

"And so you jumped him in the math wing?" Lindsay asks, sounding wryly amused, "You couldn't even contain yourself long enough to consult with us first?"

"How do you know about that?" I gape at her. The only person who saw us was Mr. Daimler, and surely he didn't say anything.

She smirks, "I have my ways. But that's not the point. Seriously Sammy, you're being crazy. I think we should get out of here and talk some sense into you. Then you can break up with McFailure, and leave him with just the shining memory of one perfect day." She clasps her hands together next to her cheek and flutters her eyelids, like some kind of Disney heroine.

"What? No way! Sorry guys, that's not going to happen. Come on, can't you give Kent a chance? I promise you'll like him, really, he's great." I plead, but Ally and Elody shift their eyes away from me as Lindsay's face hardens.

"No way Sam. No way one of my best friends is going to date one of the biggest losers in the school. Next thing, I'll hear that you're buddy-buddy with the Psycho…or maybe just her little sister." Lindsay's arms are crossed, and her face is suffused with anger.

I can feel the blood drain from my face. Somehow, she knows something about my conversations with Marian. "Lindsay, I…"

"Save it," she barks, "you've obviously transformed into a psycho-loving, freak-fucking loser." Then she turns to Ally, "Come on girls, I want a drink." Ally follows Lindsay inside and, after one pleading glance, Elody follows.

I let out a deep breath and collapse on a nearby chair. The cold metal presses into my thighs and makes me shiver, but I can't bear the thought of going back inside right now. It looks like Kent might be right - Lindsay, my best friend, really is going to dump me because I'm not falling in line with the social hierarchy. Or maybe it's because I had the gall to defy her. I'm not surprised that Ally and Elody followed her lead, but it hurts just the same. I feel a tear, scalding hot, roll down my cheek and splash on my clenched hands.

I don't even hear the door open, but suddenly Kent is standing in front of me with a blanket in his hands. "Here," he says, holding out the proffered blanket. I stand, and let him wrap it around my shoulders before I collapse into his chest, clutching him to me.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he croons, stroking my hair.

"You were right," I murmur, "they're mad. I don't know if Lindsay's going to forgive me."

Kent's arms tighten around me, and his voice is bitter as he says, "forgive you for what Sam? What have you done that hurts her in any way?"

I nod into his chest. "I know. Logically, she shouldn't care. But being popular is important to her. And I think having control is even more important. So now that she can't control me…" I trail off.

I feel Kent's chest rise under my cheek as he sighs. "Come on Sam, let's go enjoy the party, okay?

Inside, we see Rob doing a keg stand (not his first of the evening, judging by his lack of coordination) and get another drink. The sophomores in the corner stare at us and whisper frantically to each other. I ignore them, but Kent gives a big smile and drapes his arm over my shoulders, which incites another flurry of whispered exchanges.

We talk to the pugs for a bit. They are acting over-eager, and I can tell that they're hoping that since Lindsay and I are fighting I might join their group on a permanent basis. They even talk to Kent with only a few side-long glances at each other.

We have a few more drinks, and I am starting to feel a pleasant hum in my veins when I see Elody stagger towards us. "Shammy," she slurs, poking me with an unsteady finger, "we miss you. Come and hang out with us."

"Uh…I don't think Lindsay…"

"You can't choose McFreaky over us Sammy," Elody whines, "just forget about him and come with me." She loops her arm through mine and tries to pull me away.

"Elody!" I exclaim, extricating myself from her grip, "stop. I'm not going to forget about Kent, okay? You should probably…"

Elody's bleary eyes suddenly fasten on Kent's face, and she turns to him, then back to me, "Come on Sammy! You're crazy, I mean, _look_ at him," Elody gestures carelessly at Kent, "you broke up with Rob for _this_?"

Kent's face suffuses in a blush, and I feel a bubble of anger rise in my chest. Elody's casual cruelty is too much. "Yes," I snap, stepping away from her, "and it was the best decision I've ever made. You should go Elody." I turn my back to her and take Kent's hands in mine, "I'm so sorry babe, I…"

Kent interrupts me with a kiss, then murmurs, "it's okay. I mean, it's not your fault. And we have a plan right? This is the part where we get them back by being deliriously happy." Then he kisses me again and in this moment, I truly _am_ happy.

Unfortunately, after far too short a time I hear someone clear their throat behind me in irritation. Reluctantly I disengage from Kent and turn around to see an obviously annoyed Ally giving me the stink-eye.

Before I can think of anything to say, Ally is off on a tirade, "What the fuck is going on with you Sam? You've been acting like a lunatic. First, you break up with Rob on the night you're _supposed_ to be having sex with him, then, all of a sudden you're like, in love with McFreaky, the guy who just yesterday, _yesterday_ you said was a creepy stalker and you wished he would just die."

I try to interrupt, but Ally just raises her voice and shouts over me, "and now you're like, not friends with us anymore? Elody's crying, saying that you're _actually_ choosing this fucking lame-ass idiot over your _best friends_? What the fuck Sam? Care to fucking explain?"

Now I'm truly angry, and my voice rises as I shout back, "What the fuck is wrong with you Ally? You really think it's okay to come over here and just _insult_ my boyfriend right to his face? Did Lindsay put you up to this or something? You know, it's really pathetic the way you and Elody are like her little lap-dogs, all 'yes mistress, no mistress, of course mistress'. Have you ever done anything just because _you_ wanted to do it? Or do you have to get Lindsay's approval to wipe your own ass? And disregarding the fact that I shouldn't _have _to choose between my so-called friends and my boyfriend because, news-flash, you can fucking have both, to answer your question, YES. Yes, I _am_ choosing Kent over you. Because you are all rotten, mean, stupid, self-centered, vapid bitches, and _he_ is one of the best people I have ever met. So if Ihave to choose who to have in my life, yes, I definitely choose him. Got it?"

My eyes move away from Ally's drained white face, and I see Lindsay, her features contorted with rage, standing a scant ten feet away. Our eyes meet, and for a moment I think she's going to attack me. Then her eyes flash and she snaps, "Come on Ally, let's get the fuck out of here. This is the lamest party I've ever seen. Too many freaks and losers." Then she whirls and storms away, with Elody and Ally trailing in her wake.

A moment later, the front door slams and everyone bursts into excited chatter around us. The pugs are looking at me with wide eyes, and I can see the gears turning in their heads, trying to figure out how to distance themselves from me.

Kent does this for them when he grips my upper arm and guides me up the stairs. When we get to his bedroom he locks the door and turns to face me. "So," he says, "that sucked." For a moment his expression is unfathomable. Then he seems to give himself a mental shake and smiles at me.

Relief floods me, and I return his smile with a tremulous one of my own. "Yeah, that _totally_ sucked."

Kent pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, and I grab his hand and hold it to my cheek as he says, "thanks for standing up for me."

"Thanks for not hating me."

"Well," he grins, "I considered it. Then I remembered that the plan was 'be deliriously happy,' not 'let myself be manipulated into hating Sam.'" His face grows more serious as he continues, "I have to ask though, was it true, what Ally said? About you and Rob?"

"Uh…yeah. He'd been pressuring me for a while and I finally gave in. But we didn't! I mean, like I told you earlier, I've never…not with anybody. But I want to, you know, with you. This afternoon was…well, it was amazing, like nothing I've ever…with you I just can't seem to…" Before I can finish my jabbering, Kent is kissing me with such ferocity that my knees go weak, and I cling to his shoulders to keep myself upright.

I can't tell if he's pushing me or I'm pulling him, but suddenly we fall backwards on the bed, and I drag Kent down on top of me. I can feel his weight pressing me into the mattress, and when I wrap my legs around his waist my skirt rides up over my hips so that I can feel him against me. I gasp at the desire that this most intimate contact engenders, and hear myself begging, "please Kent, please, please I want to, please can't we? Oh God, Kent, I want you, please, please."

Kent groans, "God, Sam, you're killing me, you know that? How am I supposed to say no to you?"

I keep my legs wrapped tightly around him and start pulling his shirt out of the waistband of his khakis. "You don't have to say no Kent, please, I know what I want. Just say yes."

"God, okay. Okay Sam. I only have so much self-control, you know? If you're sure, then okay."

Kent kisses me again and runs his hand up my bare thigh, and I lose all coherent thought. For this moment, there is nothing but us, and heat, and the vast infinity we are floating in.

Of course, it doesn't all go smoothly. Neither of us have any idea what we're doing, so it takes a solid five minutes to deal with the condom issue (Elody's gift was a good one after all). We're both nervous, so we're fumbling and apologizing too much.

But in the end, it is perfect. As Kent enters me I gasp, not only with pleasure, but at the naturalness of this action, and the deep connection I feel as we move together in a timeless dance. A few minutes later, when Kent is shuddering in my arms, I feel such tenderness towards him that it feels like my heart is expanding to fill every inch of me with aching, raging love.

I continue to cling to Kent even after his muscles have gone slack, wanting to preserve this moment. "I'm sorry," he says into my shoulder, "I'm so sorry Sam."

I am startled by this. Did he have a totally different experience than I did? Surely not. "Don't say that Kent. Don't even think it. That was…well, that was perfect. _You_ are perfect. You do not have one single thing to be sorry for."

Kent moves to roll off of me, and I reluctantly let him. "You know," he smiles, "if you keep this up Sam, you're going to make me fall in love with you."

My heart starts racing, and a million inappropriate responses flit through my mind, like "I'm already there," "I adore you," "let's get married right this moment," or maybe "you are my soul mate," but I settle on the less stalker-ish, "that's kind of the plan."

Kent grins at me, then rolls his eyes and says, "I guess someone's going to have to deal with this party."

I glance at the clock - it's almost one. "Should be winding down," I say, "you can probably kick the stragglers out at this point."

While Kent is downstairs I put on one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers, then make the bed (somehow it got quite disarrayed) and climb in. My heart starts pounding again, this time in fear. This is the first time I've managed to keep Juliet alive, is that enough to break the cycle? I simply cannot bear the thought of waking up tomorrow in my own bed, going to school, and seeing a Kent who does not remember what we shared today. My thoughts spin on and on in the same dark vein until Kent returns.

"Whew, rousting drunks is worse than herding cats." Kent pulls off his shirt and khakis, then climbs in next to me and takes me in his arms. "I cannot wait to wake up next to you Sam," he whispers into my hair.

Kent's breathing slows, and I feel his arm go slack as he drifts into sleep. I wish I could stay awake forever, but it's been a long day, and the steady rise and fall of Kent's chest against my back is lulling me into sleep. I whisper, "I love you," then allow myself to drift away. Just before the blackness descends, I think I hear the softest whispered reply, "I love you too."

_In the dream I am falling, falling forever into the darkness. Suddenly my perspective shifts, and it feels less like falling and more like flying. I open my eyes and laugh in giddy delight as I see the ground laid out beneath me. I swoop low over my house and see my parents laughing together at the kitchen table. I flit upwards through the clouds, and survey the white surface that is hiding the messy, busy, cruel, beautiful world beneath._

Then I wake up.

38


End file.
